A shadow falls on fields of golden grain,
Where once the sun of peace serenely shone,
Now fire and steel inflict a searing pain,
And brother fights against his brother's son.
The ancient cities crumble into dust,
A mother's tears fall like the autumn rain,
A child's lost laughter, silenced and unjust,
Replaced by echoes of a mournful strain.
The winds of war carry a bitter scent,
Of shattered lives and futures torn apart,
A continent in fear, its spirit bent,
A bleeding wound within the human heart.
Yet hope remains, a flicker in the night,
That dawn will break, and bring a lasting light.